Hades New Groove
by cupcakeriot
Summary: AKA How Hades Got His Groove Back. A modern!AU retelling of one of the most famous romances in Greek Mythology, with plenty of humor and cursing thrown in for good measure. Rated M for language and liberal use of euphemisms.


**I.**

Hades is – well, he's _Hades_. He is pale and brooding and overlooked. He is prone to sullen silences. His mouth hides a sharp tongue and a savage wit behind a downward pout. He is lanky, almost gaunt, and has sharp feline-like eyes darker than the shadow vapor that curls around his feet. People are either high-key scared of his reputation or low-key repulsed by his magic.

Nobody _likes_ Hades. He knows that. He's made peace with it, kind of. He has an entire realm of fawning sycophants and he _absolutely_ does not want companionship or the approval of his family. Not at all. He can live without it. He _has_ lived without it. Hell, he even _likes_ it. Hades enjoys being alone. He does.

Because nobody likes Hades – certainly not petite, long-haired, hippie-looking girls with bronze skin and big doe eyes and plush, smiling mouths who stare and stare and _stare_ at him through coffee shop windows.

Hades shifts, uncomfortable with the prolonged attention and scowling because of it. He averts his eyes to the side, far away from the girl on the other side of the glass. He takes a long, pointed sip of his _definitely_ _not_ cinnamon-sweet macchiato and ignores the girl who is _still staring_.

He's doing a pretty good job, he thinks. She might be just standing there like a totally (beautiful) lunatic, but there are plenty of other things to look at in this coffee shop. Like, Hades knows for sure that Dionysus has been here recently because that asshole has an awful habit of leaving his wine-drunk traces of magic everywhere and he is almost certain that normal people don't feel the need to make-out _that_ aggressively in the middle of the afternoon. The _indecency_, really. He should make a call about Dionysus being careless again, but nobody has managed to control him for thousands of years and Hades doubts that will change anytime soon.

Maybe he should focus on problems he can solve, like the pollution of the River Styx and convincing- Charon that economic inflation absolutely_ does not_ apply to the Underworld. Or maybe not. He hasn't won the argument yet and he's not feeling particularly motivated to change any minds lately.

Maybe smaller problems, then? His nail polish is chipped. That's the problem with dark polish – imperfections show so easily. Such a hassle, really. Maybe he could use magic to –

A rapid series of tapping on the windows his attention and _oh, Hell_, she's _still_ staring. Hades frowns at the girl and she – strangely – brightens. She raps her small, bejeweled fingers on the glass again, drawing his attention to a half-dozen mismatched rings adorning elegant fingers with baby pink nails. The rings are all stacked on top of each other, some thin and some thick and some dotted with small jewels and one with a round tigers eye in the center. Who wears that many rings?

A crazy girl, apparently, who is trying to speak to him through the window. Her palms are flat against the glass and her forehead is nearly touching the artsy staining, but she still looks at him – but now her smile is wider, as if she doesn't care that he is skillfully serving Scowl Number Three, the one that scares most people shitless.

"Can I pet your dog?"

Hades feels his face go slack once he finally hears what the girl says. He blinks once, slow and dumbfounded, before he feels himself nodding. He looks away from the girl's bright face and instead looks down at Cerberus, who is once again a puppy after his most recent rebirth.

But puppy or not, Cerberus is still a three-headed dog with more teeth than sense and people _do not ask to pet him – _ever. Cerberus isn't cute, just like Hades. Nobody _wants_ to be around Cerberus, just like Hades. People are _scared_ of Cerberus, just like Hades. He and his dog are good companions for these reasons. Nobody else wants them, so they have each other. It's _fine_.

Yet even so, Hades watches the girl kneel down in front of Cerberus and scratch behind all six of his ears and call Cerberus a "very good boy" and giggle when Cerberus nips at her fingers playfully. It's _bizarre. _Hades can't help but wonder what is _wrong_ with this girl. Is she…imbalanced, somehow?

She must be, because she looks up at Hades with a (gorgeous) smile and tells him that he has the cutest dog. And then she holds out her small hand, waits for his larger palm to engulf hers in an icy grip, and then introduces herself with a sort of carelessness that leaves Hades in awe.

"I'm Persephone," she says brightly and for the first time in _centuries_, Hades finds himself bereft of anything rude to say.

He manages to choke out a response. "Hades," he returns, watching her warily for any sign of recognition.

But if she knows who he is – and she _should_, because Hades is _infamous_ and _instantly recognizable_ – then she doesn't give even a flicker of indication. She just goes back to petting Cerberus and Hades goes back to not staring at her.

* * *

**II.**

It isn't the last time he sees Persephone, not by a long shot. He sort of wishes it was, though.

(But not really. He isn't in the habit of lying to himself – not for long, anyway.)

* * *

**III.**

Hades doesn't particularly _like_ people. He's ambivalent about people. He doesn't hate them, but he doesn't enjoy them, either. At best, he tolerates other people. At worst, he sets them ablaze will blue hellfire – although, that is usually reserved for the moaning souls who annoy him in the Underworld.

But the point is that Hades isn't exactly social. He knows this. It is what it is.

Still, there are a choice few people who Hades _cannot_ tolerate. Zeus, for one, who he rightfully resents and who can't seem to keep it in his pants for longer than it takes Hera to strike down yet another bastard child. Really, at this point, Hades should just make a wing of the Underworld reserved for Zeus' lovechildren. It would probably save him a lot of time. Not all of those demigod bastards are as useful as Hercules and none of them hold a candle to Athena – although, Hades does acknowledge he might be biased since Athena is the _only one_ who calls him Uncle.

Hades also will not deal with Medusa. Far too murdery for his tastes, even if she has her mostly-justifiable reasons. Anytime they cross each other's paths, all she can talk about is _vengeance-this_ and _vengeance-that_. It makes his ears ring. And why does she assume that just because he's a God of the Underworld he's also an advocate for homicide? It isn't as if he can _choose_ the souls that pass through his realm. He just sends them to the right place. He doesn't prefer the maniacs!

There are a few others – mainly minor deities and upstart witches with a smidge more power than self-preservation – who are too annoying to withstand, but for the most part, Hades doesn't have any problems treating everyone with the same apathy.

Demeter is another story. For reasons he can't fathom, Demeter has always hated him. Is it because she is an Earth goddess, a creator of life, while he is a god of death? Is it because of a millennium-old territorial dispute over lands she was _allowed_ to claim back when Olympus-that-was was still a mountain and not a tourist attraction? Is it because their dominions are not as dissimilar as she would like, because even after all these years, _Hades_ is still worshipped for harvest? Is it because the cornucopia she hoists as her status symbol isn't really all that different from the cornucopia _Hades_ has? Is it for another petty reason that Hades is ignorant of?

Whatever the case, the woman hates the very air he breathes and Hades has done a lot to make sure he steers clear of her for the last hundred years or so. But the world is only so large and eventually Demeter is unavoidable.

Especially when she sets out to find him.

"You stay _away_ from my daughter," Demeter seethes, her fists clenched at her sides as she glares across the nearly empty field between him. At her feet, tall spouts of wheat begin to grow, shooting up past her shoulders as she continues to spit insults at him.

Hades largely tunes out whatever it is she is blabbering on about, just like he usually does. He has always found the easiest way to deal with Demeter is to ignore what she says, because despite being in charge of Sacred Law – _supposedly_ – the woman is unbearably close-minded and difficult to deal with. She will go away eventually and then Hades can go on to live his life peacefully.

But when Demeter _keeps going on_ about some daughter she apparently has that Hades has allegedly tainted, Hades has no other choice but to actually look at the woman with a put-upon sigh. "What are you talking about?"

"My daughter!" Demeter screeches, throwing her hands up in the air.

Hades bites back his sense of satisfaction. "Oh? You have one?"

Demeter fairly twitches before she points an accusing finger at Hades, stabbing it repeatedly in his direction for punctuation. As she speaks, the wheat at her feet continues to spread, but each time a stalk encroaches into Hades' territory, it withers into a black husk which is _also_ very satisfying. "_Yes_, I have a daughter and you _will not corrupt her!_ She will remain a virgin priestess and she will be exalted and _you will not ruin her_!"

And – really – it isn't as if Hades is known as a prolific lover. He doesn't share the reputation of his brothers. In all his thousands of years, he has had few human lovers, and even then he had them mostly out of boredom. They never last; eventually, they grow tired of him and his surliness. He isn't sure why Demeter thinks her surely-imaginary daughter is going to fall into his bed or why she is convinced enough of his possibility that she's spent the last hour harassing him about it.

Hades is altogether more than a little confused.

But antagonizing Demeter is something he views as a casual hobby and so, because the opportunity doesn't come along nearly often enough, Hades allows his lips to tilt into a curling smirk. "I don't know your daughter," he says. After a pause and with a widening smirk that belies his bluff, he adds, "_Yet_."

Demeter shrieks in outrage again and continues her tirade, which again Hades tunes out. The woman is delusional and she does eventually tire herself out, storming off in a huff. Hades watches her go, arms crossed over his chest with a twisted moue.

"Crazy woman," he mutters, shaking his head. He turns back to the shallow slope that scoops into the entryway of the Underworld and puts Demeter out of his mind.

* * *

**IV.**

But in retrospect – he should have known.

He's a bit of an idiot.

* * *

**V.**

The thing about magic is that everyone and everything has some. Magic is the lifeblood of humanity. Most people are born with so little magic that they might as well be inert for all the good it does them. Some people are born with a little more magic and those are the ones that are special for their intuition or their ability to dodge the flu every year – some of these even have an aptitude to learn more magic and can maybe learn a spell or two.

And then there are others who are born with an extraordinary amount of magic – the kind of magic that makes men into gods. These are the rare few that can actually affect change to their reality. But there's a catch, because there is _always_ a catch. Unlike the ones who can learn spells and twist their miniscule magic to their will, the ones who are born brimming with magic don't have a choice.

The magic they are born with is the magic that they have – in _whatever_ form that magic takes.

Hades has always resented this. He imagines what it might be like to be born with the magic of lightning at his fingertips or if the very sun came to him when called. If he could choose, he would even settle for the magic of knowledge or speed.

But he has the magic of death and a quirky aptitude for changing the harvest.

He is bitter about it, sometimes. People fear him largely because of the kind of magic he has access to, but it wasn't like he _chose_ death magic, just like he didn't chose to be born with _so much_ magic. It is what it is. He can't _change_ it. All he can do is tolerate the souls that seek him out, met out punishments for the really fucked up ones, and help all the others pass on to the next life – and occasionally bless a harvest or two, just for kicks.

Knowing that he doesn't have a choice in his magic is a cold comfort, though – because the thing that nobody will talk about is that the more magic one is born with, the longer they will live. And Hades was born with _a lot_ of magic, so he's been around for…a while.

The souls he can manage. The whispers about him he can ignore. He can even deal with the occasional bout of blue hellfire burning through his temper from time to time.

The loneliness is another thing entirely.

Maybe that's why he lets the girl get under his skin. At least at first.

* * *

**VI.**

She shows up again out of nowhere, seemingly popping into existence right in the middle of the park where Hades is loitering. He'd chosen a spot out of the way on purpose just to get a little peace and had been enjoying the late afternoon sunshine on his sugar-pale skin.

And then the girl appears, loud and (very) beautiful.

"Where's your dog?"

"At home," Hades answers unthinkingly. He does not add that Cerberus is probably chomping on the bones of convicted murderers.

The girl, Persephone, sighs. She seems genuinely disappointed, but she brightens almost as quickly. Her eyes are very green and Hades looks away, dropping his eyes back down to the book in his lap. "Too bad. He's such a good boy…"

Hades doesn't comment. He isn't even sure how to respond. Silence tends to be the best option in these situations.

"Do you have any plans right now?" Persephone asks abruptly.

Hades chances a look up and regrets it almost immediately, lowering his gaze again before that awkward flush can rise on his ears. "No," he answers neutrally.

Persephone claps. "Oh, that's great! Then you can come with me – _come on_! – There's this new exhibit at the museum that I've been dying to see and you're the perfect date!"

Hades doesn't move, not until Persephone boldly reaches for his book and snags it into her tiny grip.

"I'll hold the book hostage if you don't come with me! Come on, come on. Let's go!"

And Hades…stands up to follow Persephone through the winding trails of the park and through half the city, all the while listening to her cheerful rambling. He has to measure his strides so that she can keep up with him and he doesn't offer a lot of input to her commentary, not even when she's marveling over the art in the museum. He just kind of follows her, goes along with whatever her next suggestion is. He likens the experience to being windswept by one of Zeus' tantrums, only much more enjoyable.

He doesn't even ask for his book back – and he only realizes she still has it when he returns home later that night, belly full of frozen yogurt with a faint smile pulling at his cheeks.

It feels like the first day of sunlight after a thousand days of clouds.

* * *

**VII.**

Persephone, he comes to realize, is a force of nature. What she wants is what she gets – but she demands so nicely, so cutely, so innocently that Hades can't find any reason to deny her. He can't imagine that _anyone_ would have the willpower to deny her much of anything, really.

She has a habit of catching herself saying something she shouldn't, maybe something a touch rude, and then patting her own lips in punishment, as if she could put the words right back into her mouth.

She has another habit of dragging him from place to place, always interested in a new adventure after she – once again – finds him where he did not think he could be found.

She also has a habit of not recognizing his personal space. It's as if the concept doesn't exist for her. She likes to wear a lot of rings and hold onto his hands; she likes to wear frothy scarves and loop one end around his neck; she likes to offer him food and then wipe the crumbs off his face. She likes to wear a smile that seems like it's only for him.

And Hades is a little lost to a slip of a girl with wild hair and wilder ideas.

He can't say that he minds any of it too much.

* * *

**VIII.**

"My mother is such a hypocrite," Persephone complains one day.

"Oh?"

"She wants me to take a vow of chastity!" Persephone bursts out, a (cute) pout on her face. "Like, what sense does that make? _She_ certainly didn't take a vow of chastity, otherwise I wouldn't be here, right? So why do _I_ have to be a virgin?"

Hades chokes on air. He has _very deliberately_ not thought too much about Persephone in _that way_ – but the damned girl seems determined to rope him into this conversation, which means that Hades can't help that his mind is _going there_. What would it be like to be tangled up in all of her long hair? What would she sound like, look like, in the throws of her own passion? How small would she feel caught under his body?

Hades _very firmly_ turns his thoughts in a different direction. He manages to glance at Persephone, only to be frozen by the heavy-lidded dip of her eyes and the smug tilt of her plush lips. When she leans toward him, her small hands balancing her weight on his thighs, Hades finds himself frozen.

"I don't want to be a virgin forever," she confesses, lips against his ear.

Hades swallows.

He's pretty sure he's being seduced – and beyond how _bizarre_ it is that _anyone_ would want to seduce _him, _he knows he is too weak to resist.

* * *

**IX.**

The Underworld is brimming with many personified creatures that, by all rights, would not exist if they did not feed off the emotions the souls bleed out across River Styx. Pain and Panic are two such creatures and are the ones most likely to bother him on any given day. Their siblings Anger, Regret, and Peace tend to leave him alone, so he doesn't even bother to seek them out.

When he finds Pain and Panic frolicking at the base of a rocky hill within his domain, he picks them up by the scruff of their furless, brightly-colored skin and gives them each a firm look. "There will be a girl here today," he tells them. "Do not bother her or I'll tell Charon to limit your meals. Understood?"

They each nob between excited chortles and Hades supposes that this is the best he can hope for. Pain and Panic might as well be called _Mischief_ for all the trouble they cause. He has no doubt that they'll be causing problems if they get too bored, which is the last thing he wants when Persephone is here, in the Underworld, _visiting Hades for the first time_.

He'd been reluctant to the whole idea at first, but Persephone had turned her weapons-grade doe eyes to him and pointed out that it was only _fair_ since Hades had visited _her_ domain already and – well. Hades is not known for being a weak man, but he knows that he has a weakness. And so does Persephone. And she has no qualms about exploiting that weakness whenever she sees fit.

Hades is a little bit in love. But only just a little.

Hades waits for Persephone at the Gates of the Underworld, which is a stupid title for a glorified cave, but _Hades_ wasn't the one who decided to get all dramatic about his domain. No, all the drama can be laid at the feet of Hecate, who is a terrifying pain in the ass he has no energy to argue with.

Hades might had a worrying habit of letting people do what they want. But, like, why the _fuck should he care_ what other people do? As long as they aren't bothering him too much, he figures it doesn't much matter.

By the time Persephone shows up in surrounded by a veritable shower of flower petals, Hades has almost quashed all his nerves about this little visit. They've held hands _twice_ already, so there's nothing to be nervous about. It's just Persephone. Just lovely, wild, carefree, gorgeous, mystifying Persephone. Nothing to be nervous about at all.

Persephone greets him with a beaming, sparkling smile and winds her tanned arms around his bicep, eagerly bouncing on her toes as he stutters through a few well-placed warnings about what _not_ to do in the Underworld. "Make sure not to eat anything," he says towards the end, allowing Persephone to pull him toward the heavy shadow of the Gates. "If you eat anything, you might be stuck here forever. It's confusing magic. I've never really understood it, but I'm pretty sure it's a curse…"

Hades is also pretty sure that Persephone is no longer listening to him, as she's caught sight of where Cerberus is being the absolute _laziest_ guard dog in history. Persephone darts over to the three headed dog, who is no longer in the puppy stage of his lifecycle but resembles a multi-headed Doberman. The girl begins to smother Cerberus in lavish, overwhelming attention, scratching behind his ears and accepting licks across her face in return. After a while, she looks up at Hades with a pout and complains, "I don't have enough hands!"

Hades can only stare because he is so fucking awkward. He knows he is. He's mostly accepted it by now.

He's still accepting the fact that he might be a little jealous of a fucking hellhound, but…acceptance takes time. And he isn't sure he could handle all of Persephone's attention, anyway. For such a small thing, she's really intimidating.

Hades' whole life is _ironic_.

Persephone stands and Cerberus is at her heels, all six ears perked forward in adoration and attention. Hades looks at his dog and thinks, _same_. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his best-looking pair of black jeans and gestures toward the winding, downward slope that leads the cave further into the Underworld. He clears his throat. "Uh. There's a lot of places to see," he says as he scratches the back of his head. "The Underworld kind of…builds down, so the deeper we go the more…uh hellish things tend to get. Did you want to see anything in particular?"

"Tartarus," Persephone says immediately.

"What."

Persephone smiles cheerfully at him, as if she hadn't just said she wanted to see _literal torture hell_, and simply repeats herself. "Tartarus. I've heard a lot of rumors and I'm curious. Will you take me?"

Hades falters. _He_ doesn't even like going to Tartarus. He has literal demons he employs to deal with Tartarus – a guy by the name of Lucifer is in charge of that level of the Underworld and Hades is just glad to not have to set foot there more than once every hundred years. He avoids Tartarus like the goddamn plague.

"Uh…Don't you want to see the Elysian Fields?" he offers after a beat.

Persephone shrugs her shoulders. "I mean, I _guess_," she says with a wry smile. "But I'm a literal Goddess of the Earth and Spring happens to be my dominion. If rumors about the Elysian Fields are true and it's basically a paradise of eternal spring, then I've had enough of that my whole life. I want to see something_ new_."

"Like Tartarus."

"Yes, _exactly_ like Tartarus." Persephone grins. "So, will you take me?"

"Of course," Hades says, because he is a weak, stupid man who is wrapped around Persephone's little finger. If she wants to see the pits of literal hell, then he's going to show her the pits of literal hell.

Of course, Persephone surprises him yet again. He takes her down to Tartarus and expects to see a run-and-scream reaction, but she looks around with curious eyes and then declares that Tartarus is _awfully hot, don't you think_? Seemingly unmoved by the screams ripping through the flame-laden air, Persephone takes his hand and skips along as she drags him through all the other levels of the Underworld. She seems particularly taken with River Lethe and Hades shudders, internally amazed and terrified of this beautiful creature who likes to hold his hand.

It all goes to shit sooner than Hades would like, but such is his life.

He is about to give Persephone a tour of his personal home – at her insistence – when Pain finds him and declares that Zeus needs to see him urgently. Because of course he does. Everything is urgent with Zeus, which is probably why he has so many bastards running around. Hades scoffs, but he knows his duty well and he turns to Persephone with an apologetic smile.

"We have to cut this short. I am needed elsewhere. Would you like me to take you home-"

"I'll stay here," Persephone declares. She nods at his house, a quaint dark-paneled abode in the upper caverns of the Underworld that is set into one of the higher peaks of a mountain.

Hades has spent thousands of years carving and perfecting his home, something of a hobby he takes much too seriously, and he is proud of this piece of peace standing so independently from the chaos of Hell – but he also doesn't want Persephone to enter his home without him. Just the thought of it makes his stomach clench and his chest feel odd. He falters and wants to insist that he at least see Persephone out of the Underworld, but Pain continues to tug at his trousers and Hades finds himself capitulating. He opens the door of his home with a flare of his hell flame magic, a little reluctant as he apologizes for the mess.

Persephone waves him off. "I would expect nothing less from a bachelor pad," she says and Hades' stomach twists again, because there is _something_ about the way she says it. He can't put his finger on _what_ it is that makes him suddenly nervous to leave her unsupervised but he also doesn't get a chance to think about it too much.

Hades restrains a sigh and dips his head. "I'll be back soon –" Hades starts, but he is once again cut off.

This time Persephone doesn't interrupt by talking over him. This time Persephone interrupts by pressing her plush lips just shy of his cheek, momentarily stunning him into silence. "Hurry back," she whispers, eyes glittering.

Hades swallows, stares at her a moment longer, and then disappears in a burst of blue fire.

It's a strategic retreat at this point, because _fuck_.

* * *

**X.**

When Hades lands in Olympus it is chaos. This is nothing new, because Olympus is generally chaotic even on its best day, but that doesn't mean that Hades suddenly feels long-suffering for it. He's had a long day already and Zeus, as a rule, never calls meetings for anything _fun_.

The round marble meeting room echoes with several voices talking over each other, one voice louder than the others. There is something being yelled about how _the world will starve _and _return her to me at once_ and _you owe me, Zeus, so help me by the name of Kronos_. Hades recognizes Demeter by sound before he sees her – and that's probably a good thing, because she starts screaming at him as soon as he enters the room while everyone else falls silent.

"You! You've kidnapped my daughter! What have you done to her, you foul peasant of a God?"

Hades blinks at Demeter. "What."

"My _daughter_!" Demeter screeches. "If I find out that you've tainted her and taken her purity, I will make sure the whole world starves! I will find ways to burn you that not even your hellfire can protect you from! I will eviscerate –"

Hades looks past Demeter at Zeus. "What is she talking about?"

Zeus looks mildly amused by the whole thing. Hades guesses it must be nice to watch someone else get yelled at about tainting precious daughters and he thinks that makes Zeus an asshole. Still, his youngest brother does give him an answer from where he lounges on the golden throne that, in another life, should have been _Hades_. "Apparently you have her daughter."

"…Is her daughter dead? Because I can't do much about it if she is?"

(Later, Hades will lament that he is truly _very _dumb.)

Zeus snorts.

Demeter's screeches rise to a higher pitch that only Cerberus would be able to hear, but she still manages to sputter out, "_No_, you imbecile! My kidnapped daughter is not _dead_! She's in your forsaken realm because you _took her_!"

Hades frowns. "I don't just take people off the streets, Demeter."

"Oh?" Demeter challenges. "Then where has my Persephone gone? All she talks about is _you_ so you must have brainwashed her or something, because there is _no way_ my lovely girl would ever entertain the thought of _you_ when she could be so much more powerful as a virgin deity! She would never leave me _willingly_!"

One of the other Gods – Hermes, probably, because he has no tact – can be heard muttering, "Why _wouldn't_ the kid leave this crazy bitch?"

Even Zeus and Hera share a _look_, finally seeming to agree on _something_ after a thousand years of disagreements.

And even _Hades_ – reeling from shock that Persephone is Demeter's daughter, which shouldn't be _all that shocking_ since there have been plenty of clues he's outright missed – has an undiplomatic reaction. He winces at Demeter and says, "Well….Can you blame her for wanting to get away from you?"

If looks could kill – well, it's a good thing Demeter isn't Medusa in that moment, otherwise Hades would be stone.

"Give my daughter back, abductor!"

"Listen," Hades says firmly. "I didn't kidnap your daughter. She wanted a tour of the Underworld. She's just _visiting_."

"And why would she want to visit you?" Demeter demands loudly.

Hades feels very awkward, standing among his extended family as they all avidly watch drama unfold. He clears his throat. "We're…seeing each other," he admits.

Demeter laughs meanly. "My Persephone? Dating _you_? No. No, not even to make a point of rebelling would she even-"

"It's _true_," Hades insists. "We've been seeing each other for a while."

"I don't care _what_ you've been doing," Demeter declares hotly. She turns to piece Zeus with a withering look. "You get my daughter back, you useless swine, or so help me-"

"Look, Deme, it sounds like she wants to be there-"

"I don't care what she wants!"

"We all have free will! I can't just make people do things just because you're throwing a fit-"

"What kind of father-"

"Well, what kind of _mother_-"

"Enough!" Hera steps in, her eyes ablaze as Zeus and Demeter fall silent. Hera stands from her ornate throne, regal as she paces toward Aphrodite. "I think we have all heard enough. It sounds like Hades and Persephone have reached an understanding. Demeter, if you are concerned about your daughter's consent, then Aphrodite and I will be more than happy to cast a spell to ascertain the true desire of her heart – which should be more than enough to calm you, correct?"

Demeter is still clearly pissed, but she still nods. "Fine," she spits out. She casts a dark look at Hades. "Prove that he's kidnapped my daughter and I'll be happy."

Which…is not what Hera said she would do, but now that Demeter has finally stopped screaming like a banshee he doesn't think anyone will be willing to argue the point.

Hera rolls her eyes and reaches for Aphrodite's hands. The Goddess of Marriage and the Goddess of Love begin to chant, golden and pink magic swirling around the point of contact. The light between them blooms so brightly Hades has to look away, but he still hears both of them let out sharp gasps.

"Oh," Aphrodite says, wide-eyed and blushing.

"Oh," Hera echoes, looking at Hades in amazement.

"What?" Hades asks warily.

"Yes, _what_ exactly did that spell show you?" Demeter demands, hands on her hips.

A smile twists at Hera's lips. "Well, I can say for certain that Persephone has done with Hades willingly," she says to Demeter gently. "You can be comforted of your daughter's consent."

Demeter, predictably, explodes in denial – but then three things are happening at the same time and Hades can only tune out whatever vitriol escapes her mouth as his attention is taken by the new world that suddenly unfolds beneath his feet.

"They are in love," Aphrodite gushes.

"They are married," Hera states calmly.

And Pain, who appeared at Hades feet in a puff of smoke and round eyes, loudly says, "She ate half a pomegranate before anyone could stop her!"

Oh.

_Oh_.

Hades…needs to sit and process because…because…

They've _only held hands_ – and she's only _just_ kissed his cheek – and now she is his _wife_.

Oh, _fuck_.

(Oh, _yay!_)

* * *

**XI.**

It takes a while for things to calm down, but Hades will eventually find that with Persephone things are never _calm_, exactly.

Pain goes to retrieve Persephone from the Underworld and when she arrives in a burst of greenery and flowers, her lips are still smeared with sticky juice from the fruit in her hand. She brandishes the pomegranate smugly at the entirety of the Olympus chamber and then latches on to Hades' arm with an adoring smile.

Persephone calls him _husband_ and smiles serenely at her mother's very loud, very public mental breakdown. Meanwhile, on Earth, entire crops wither to blackness and the ground opens up in a series of earthquakes. By the time Demeter is calmed and talked from the brink of catastrophic destruction, Zeus makes an off-color joke and says that Persephone should be named _Kore_.

(It's a nickname that sticks for _reasons_ after a few _incidents_ after Persephone becomes official Queen of the Underworld, but mostly because it's true.)

It is decided, while Hades is standing in dumb disbelief, that the marriage between Persephone and Hades is legitimate. It is also decided that Persephone had willingly and knowingly eating fruit of the Underworld with the tacit understanding that she would be tying herself to the plane forever – or at least for sixth months out of the year, if she wants, which is another complicated bit of magic that Hades doesn't even try to understand.

Hades is too busy trying to reconcile the fact that he has a _wife_ to understand much else.

(But later, much later, he will be in bed with the weight of his wife draped over his chest as they both bask in the afterglow and he will understand what happiness is.)

* * *

**Epilogue**

"Well, Zeus has done it again."

Hades sighs at Poseidon's tone, not because he disagrees but because he doesn't want to get dragged into another petty squabble. He has a mother-in-law and a wife for that. Still, he looks at his brother and asks, "Who is it this time?"

"Some wood nymph popped out another demi-god the other day," Poseidon gossips. "Hera just about strangled Zeus."

"Well, he would have deserved it."

"Yeah," Poseidon laughs.

"Not like you should be judging, though. Considering."

Poseidon stops laughing. "Excuse me?"

Hades shrugs, leaning back to sip on his too-sweet coffee. "You're an eternal bachelor with a dozen illegitimate children running around. And one of them is a Cyclops."

Poseidon scowls. "You think you're so much better than me? I'll have you know, I have a busy job. Zeus too! We have very busy jobs – and we need some stress relief! What's so bad about that? And, not to be _that guy_, but you just deal with ghosts, right? What's so stressful about that?"

Hades is used to this level of condescension and maybe before Persephone he would have swallowed his pride and his tongue. But now, with his bold wife constantly eschewing every expectation that has ever been set for her, Hades feels inspired. He feels bold enough to clap back.

So he raises a brow. "I'm sorry, has there ever been an actual zombie apocalypse on Earth?"

"Well…no."

"Right. Because I do my _job_. My very stressful job, by the way, since there are millions more dead people than there are fish in the sea. In fact, I get to deal with the dead fish from your realm, too. The dead never _die_, so I'm always busy. And yet, no apocalypse."

"…Well, I suppose that's true…"

"And now that we've established that my job is stressful, let's count how many wives I have." Hades pretends to count on his fingers and Poseidon flushes in embarrassment. "Let's see….Oh, right, just one wife. Persephone. And mistresses? No, none of those – too busy keeping my wife happy and satisfied."

"…I see your point," Poseidon concedes.

But Hades isn't done. He shoots his brother a smug look. "_Very_ satisfied," he brags, thinking about how voracious Persephone's carnal appetite is and how _anytime is a good time_.

Poseidon grimaces. "Yeah, okay. I get it."

Hades sips on his coffee and waits until Poseidon does the same. And then he says, "We're expecting."

Hades doesn't think there has been anything ever so entertaining as watching Poseidon's sputter and spray himself with hot tea. Except maybe recreating the same conversation with Zeus the next day.

("You're awfully smug these days," Persephone comments, tearing mint up into a smoothie concoction that she's been drinking for months. She's round and glowing and still terrifying. He's pretty sure the mint she's tearing up is the remains of someone who had been flirting with him last week who she had turned into a plant, but he isn't dumb enough to ask. His wife's vengeful streak is her own business.

"I have a lot to be smug about," Hades answers, dropping a kiss onto his wife's cheek. And then her neck. And another on her shoulder for good measure.

Persephone practically purrs, abandons her smoothie, and pushes Hades backward onto a couch. "Yes, you do. Let's be _smug_ about some more things."

And, well. Who is Hades to argue with that? He's a weak man, after all.)

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading this hot mess of a one-shot. It's part crackfic and part modern!AU. If it made you laugh, that's great. If not, _eh, I tried_. This was inspired by a lot of tumblr posts and little comics about Hades and Persephone, so if you've seen posts and things in this story seem familiar that's why - credit where credit is due.**

**Happy (early) Birthday! **

**As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.**

**~Rae**


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